


california gurls

by 4_Jwj



Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: Boys in Skirts, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, i also ? ?? wish i didnt write this, no one comes in public there, sort of no actual Sex happens in public unless hand jobs count
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24602890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4_Jwj/pseuds/4_Jwj
Summary: the one where seokwoo wears a skirt
Relationships: Kang Chanhee | Chani/Kim Seokwoo | Rowoon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	california gurls

it should look ridiculous - and it does, a little. enough so chanhee can play along while the others are in the room, but - 

he forgot, how pretty seokwoo is when he’s embarrassed. how long his legs are, miles of soft, tan skin usually hidden under wide pants, worn, loose jeans. without them he can see the muscles in his thighs when he moves, stretching the fabric of the skirt until it rides up, already resting just barely under his ass. 

he tugs it back down again, raises himself on his knees to keep it from moving up when he tries to sit down. chanhee lets sanghyuk takes pictures for him, although he wants them for a very different reason. for now, he keeps his eyes on seokwoo, lets them trail from his fingers clutching the hem of the skirt to the bold, angry blush on his cheeks. 

“this was a horrible idea.” 

“no it wasn’t,” sanghyuk gets it out through his laughter, and seokwoo turns wide, desperate eyes on chanhee. whatever he sees there, what chanhee can’t hide makes him swallow, tongue coming out to wet his lips. chanhee shrugs. 

“you lost the bet.” 

it _was_ a good idea, seokwoo’s broad arms and wide chest should make him a comical girl, but chanhee can’t make himself see what sanghyuk does. can’t see anything but skin, still unmarked. 

“you cheated, but whatever. i put the skirt on. can i take it off now, please?” he takes his hands off the skirt to clap them together in front of him, darts his eyes from sanghyuk to chanhee to inseong, so he doesn’t have to look at any of them for too long. 

it’s chanhee who answers, maybe too fast, “no. you said you’d wear it for the rest of the night.” 

he hopes no one notices his voice shaking, except seokwoo. seokwoo can’t miss it, he knows him so well and he’s looking right at him, brows pinched together and lips in a small frown. 

sanghyuk starts to say something, gets cut off by seokwoo rising to his feet. the skirt shifts when he moves, brushes against his thighs in a gentle touch chanhee can’t look away from. 

“fine, okay, i’ll do it just stop - ” he reaches out, rests his knee on the couch by sanghyuk’s leg while he yanks his phone of his hand “ - _taking pictures_ ,”the skirt rides up when he does, reveals a sliver of tight, black boxers and that - 

shouldn’t be hot. it’s not even - it’s not racy, lace stretched over his ass, letting his cock spill out - but it’s so much more seduction than he usually gets, from seokwoo. just the suggestion, for now, is enough. he thinks he might convince seokwoo to try, later - more, all of the things seokwoo in a skirt they borrowed from his sister shouldn’t make make him think about, but do. 

his blush doesn’t die down for a while, and for the rest of the night he’s quieter than usual. sanghyuk and inseong notice, step in to fill the gaps that would be seokwoo’s long, winding stories until he’s comfortable enough to talk again - which takes a while, until they stop teasing him about being the most obscenely jacked girl they’ve ever seen, and _some guys are into that, you know_

(chanhee, apparently, but nobody looks to him when inseong says it, so he must hiding it well enough) 

and they still end up watching a movie, mostly silent except for inseong’s muttered commentary to sanghyuk, seokwoo’s laughter at inappropriate times. it’s a little subdued, but normal, and nobody really looks at seokwoo after that. 

halfway through the movie chanhee feels him really start to relax. he stops playing with his fingers in his lap to wrap an easy arm around chanhee’s shoulders, a warm palm slipping down his upper arm. his bare thigh is pressed to chanhee’s under the blanket as he leans more of his weight on him, and chanhee knows he can’t, imagines he can feel its heat through his jeans. 

slowly, scared of being seen - what the fuck is he _doing -_ even under the blanket, with the lights turned off, he moves his hand until it rests on seokwoo’s knee. tries to make it casual, like any other touch between them in public but - it’s not. it’s his heart hammering in his chest and the fine hair on seokwoo’s thighs under his fingers and seokwoo - 

he jumps in his seat, of course he does - but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even let out a sound. chanhee turns his head so his lips are almost pressed to seokwoo’s ear, bent down to meet him. 

“tell me if you want me to stop.” 

this close, he can hear him swallow, thick like something stuck in his throat but - 

he shakes his head, soft strands of uncombed hair brushing chanhee’s cheek where it’s practically pressed against the side of seokwoo’s face. they stay like that long enough for seokwoo to whisper an answer, shaky and soft but not _no_ into his ear before pulling away and chanhee - 

chanhee doesn’t realize how much he was expecting rejection until it doesn’t come, until seokwoo’s thighs are parting under the blanket just enough for chanhee’s fingers to slip along the inside, and it’s his ears that are heating up, his breath that stutters in his throat. 

seokwoo’s staring straight ahead, at the tv, but his eyes are wide enough, just enough light coming from the screen for chanhee to see that they’re glassy, unfocused. his bottom lip catches between his teeth when chanhee’s fingers inch up, muscles taunt under his hand. 

he looks away, digs his fingers in hard, soft skin and unyielding muscle and all of it bare, the edge of the skirt rucked up pretty much at seokwoo’s hips, probably - until he relaxes. his head tips back to rest on the edge of the couch, eyes shut like maybe, the movie put him to sleep. 

chanhee moves his hand up his thigh, dragging his nails over the softest part until his knuckles brush the edge of the skirt. it’s where he thought it would be, bunched up around his waist and it can’t - 

can’t be covering anything, chanhee’s hand groping seokwoo or seokwoo’s ass in his unsexy shorts that just picturing under the blanket is driving him crazy. he has to shift in his seat, pull his other hand away from between his legs where he’s uncomfortably aware of it and tuck it underneath his thigh instead. 

seokwoo spreads his knees farther, enough for chanhee to feel the fabric shift over his hand, pull away and he has the ridiculous urge to tug on it - 

so he does. seokwoo gasps when the waistband pulls at his hips, a quiet, tiny sound he only hears because it’s right by his ear, because seokwoo has angled himself so he’s tucked into chanhee, his face in the crook of his neck. he hadn’t noticed before because he’s barely breathing, frozen in place while chanhee plays with the end of the skirt. 

he pulls at it again, to see if he can get seokwoo to make that sound again, but this time he stays silent - and chanhee realizes instead his thighs are trembling, a subtle shake he knows

(from being on his knees, lips stretched full around seokwoo and fingers sunk into his thighs to try to push him deeper, until he hits the back of his throat and it’s still not enough, not even close and thinking about doing that _now -_ with the skirt brushing against his hair, or bunched up in seokwoo’s hands so he can _see_ but not off, it wouldn’t - won’t need to come off) 

means seokwoo is trying not to buck up into his hands, and he hasn’t even touched him yet. he wants to, and has pretty much forgotten why he shouldn’t.

chanhee slips his hand under the skirt, cups seokwoo where he’s already half hard over his shorts and feels him jump in his hands. pulls another small, delicious sound from him that gets muffled in his shoulder - seokwoo is almost completely curled into him now, his arm dropped from around his shoulders to circle his waist instead, pull him closer with a hand on his hip, two fingers hooked into his belt loop. 

chanhee turns to look at seokwoo, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips swollen from where he’s bitten down on them while his fingers trace his length, lightly and in a way he knows is unsatisfying just to see what he’ll do. 

his hips lift off the couch, the tiniest fraction but the blanket starts to slip off of their legs.seokwoo scrambles to grab it before it slides onto the floor, eyes flying open and pretty, flushed mouth parted in silent shock

(and he’s never been this quiet around chanhee, with chanhee’s hands under his clothes, something not right about it and chanhee can’t wait, suddenly, to get him somewhere he doesn’t have to hold himself back)

under his hand, seokwoo’s fully hard. the skirt is pushed up around chanhee’s wrist, kissing the back of his hand as he moves it earnestly over seokwoo, grinding the heel down because usually, the pressure-pain makes him moan but now, he bites down on his knuckles to stifle it - 

“we need to go,” his voice comes out low, hoarse like he’s actually spent the last twenty minutes sucking seokwoo’s dick instead of just thinking about it. seokwoo nods quickly, the tangled mess of his hair brushing over his brows before shaking his head just as suddenly. 

“i can’t - i can’t get up,” and he sounds like it, breathy and close to _something_ that just makes chanhee want to pull him up and show him off, because he didn’t know it could be like this, with them. 

still, chanhee snorts until he realizes - “fuck, i -” and looks down because he can’t - he can’t either. seokwoo has the audacity to laugh at him, the loudest he’s been since he put the skirt on at the beginning of the night, what feels like days ago - until chanhee palms him under the blanket again, because he still has a hand on his dick. seokwoo chokes, and his laughter turns into a fit of coughing as he tries to make it anything but a moan and - 

he’s _still hard._ wide eyes dart over to where inseong is asleep on the love seat, and then to sanghyuk on the floor, looking right back at him. he doesn’t look - 

he just looks concerned, passing seokwoo a half empty bottle of coke to clear his throat. seokwoo nods, takes a generous swig even though he hates soft drinks and chanhee - chanhee watches the column of his throat, frozen with his hand hovering over seokwoo’s cock and actually having to fight back the urge to _touch_ when - 

seokwoo caps the bottle, hands it back to sanghyuk with one hand while he scrubs the back of the other over his lips. chanhee slips his hand out from under the skirt when he moves forward, hoping the blanket hides it. 

“actually i uh - i think i’m coming down with something i’m just going to go and - i have a headache,” manic, seokwoo waves his hand at the tv until sanghyuk blinks, nods slowly and turns back to the movie that is somehow still playing. 

seokwoo doesn’t even look at chanhee, just pushes the blanket away from him and - doesn’t have to run, can cross the room in a couple of strides the absolute asshole - shuts the door to chanhee’s bedroom behind him. chanhee just catches the skirt flutter around the back of his thighs before he’s out of sight, the warmth of his flushed body still clinging to chanhee’s clothes, his skin. 

he gets half of an excuse out before sanghyuk waves him away with turning around, pointing to inseong so that he knows to be quiet. 

chanhee eases the blanket off of his legs and tosses it to sanghyuk, to give to inseong. in the seconds it takes him to pull the blanket off his head chanhee’s in the hall, pushing open the door to his bedroom. 

seokwoo pulls him the rest of the way inside, presses him up against the door and is kissing him, hands on the side of his face, then his arms, then his waist. chanhee lets him pull him close, his clothed hips rolling up seokwoo’s bare thigh. there’s pressure, not enough but it makes seokwoo moan into the kiss, lips parting so chanhee can run his tongue over his teeth, so he keeps rocking into him, snakes his arms around seokwoo to grab at his ass, a fistful of the skirt bunched up between his fingers. 

seokwoo is still trying to stay quiet, muffling the sounds he makes against chanhee’s lips, his neck when they have to stop to breathe, but he’s a lot worse at it behind a closed door. chanhee wonders how hard it was to pretend, to hide how much he loved being played with in public - whispers it into his ear for the way he shivers, stumbles back from chanhee shaking his head, ears, neck and face flushed a violent red. 

pretty, with his shirt and hair a rumpled mess, the skirt sitting on an awkward angle. 

chanhee takes a step towards the bed, where seokwoo sits down roughly, a hand over his mouth. the other is hooked into the waistband of the skirt, not pushing it down or fixing it, just - waiting. 

“it’s okay i -” chanhee reaches behind him to pull his shirt up over his head, the other hand working at his belt. he gets them both off, leaving them on the floor behind him and when he turns back to seokwoo, he - 

seokwoo has a hand between his legs, palming himself through the skirt - “liked it,” seokwoo actually giggles, because he’s still nervous and chanhee’s looking right at him when he stutters, and asks, “yeah?” 

chanhee nods, still kind of stupid with seokwoo looking like he does - can’t believe he was the one teasing seokwoo just a minute ago - and steps between his legs. 

“yeah,” he leans down to kiss him, bracing his hands on seokwoo’s shoulders. it’s chaste, chanhee too busy smiling because of seokwoo, seokwoo’s giggling, and because it’s nice to have his hands steadying him while _he_ bends over to kiss him, and seokwoo still laughing, leaving small pecks on chanhee’s lips in between giggles. 

chanhee pulls away, drops to his knees with his hands on seokwoo’s thighs again, pushing them apart. he thought maybe, without somebody else in the room - 

but it’s still so hot, how easy it is to touch seokwoo when he’s this exposed. he pillows his cheek on his thigh and slides his fingers under the skirt, his shorts so he can feel how hot he is. the tight fabric stretches as he forces his hand in until his thumb brushes seokwoo’s shaft, and his whole body shudders, knees pressing against chanhee as he curls inwards. he lets out a pretty gasp, too, and chanhee is so much more aware of it now, after. 

“can i suck you?” 

“what - uh, yeah,” chanhee laughs, presses it into seokwoo’s thigh with a light kiss. under his mouth, it feels like seokwoo’s burning up, so much heat and tension and he’s shaking, chanhee’s nail scratching the sensitive underside of his cock, toying with him. he’s been toying with him all night, actually, but he’s so far from pity with the whines falling from seokwoo’s lips, his hands twisted in the sheets, the skirt to yank it out of the way. 

he’s not doing anything to end this fast, like seokwoo wants him to. like a part of him wants to, too - because he’s aching, the thick, dark fabric of his jeans barely hiding the growing wetness that slings to his underwear, and the only reason he’s used to being this hard, this desperate for so long is because seokwoo loves to tease him, to bring him to edge again and again until he’s incoherent and really - 

he has himself to thank, because chanhee can wait, and as much as he wants to come - he really, really wants to make seokwoo come apart.

he slaps seokwoo’s thigh, once, to get him to lift his hips enough for chanhee to pull his underwear down. it makes him whine, buck up into nothing and chanhee honestly doesn’t know if it’s because he likes it, or any touch right now will drive him crazy - so he asks. 

“i - uh, i don’t know, ask me again later,” he hums, and steps back to get seokwoo’s shorts all the way off, deliberately dragging his fingers down trembling legs. he doesn’t think he’s ever touched him this much, here, and he’s obviously so, so sensitive from it. 

his half formed plan to make seokwoo beg might go completely out the window, when he kneels down again, and sees - seokwoo’s thick, swollen cock tenting the skirt, his legs spread wide in shameless invitation. he’s already there, desperate and laying himself out for chanhee, and so beautiful like that he can’t deny him anything 

(and seokwoo always gives in, too, when he needs it. they both love it, until they can’t take it anymore, and that’s why it - why they work. it’s sappy, and kind of ridiculous, considering, but this is the part of sex where he remembers all over again how much he loves seokwoo, and how much seokwoo loves and - today - trusts him) 

chanhee takes him - tries to take him - in all at once, gags. seokwoo makes another small sound, something like arousal and concern. it’s cute, he’s cute, eyes all wide and his shirt still clinging to his chest, dotted with sweat. chanhee eases off, slowly, carefully dragging his teeth down the length in a way that always makes seokwoo throw his head back until just his lips kiss the head. 

he reaches for seokwoo’s hand, brushes against his fingers on the sheets as it moves to his hair, where he wants it. long fingers run through his bangs, bush them back away from his eyes before cupping the back of his neck, tugging gently forward. chanhee mumbles something like _good boy_ before sinking down again, more carefully, but the tightening grip at the back of his neck tells him seokwoo heard it. 

his jaw starts to ache quickly and he loves it, looking up at seokwoo through his lashes and watching him come apart, like he wanted him to but its so easy, his breath already coming in gasps of chanhee’s name, like it does when he’s close. chanhee brings a hand up to jack off what he can’t reach with the steady slide of his mouth, twisting it around to cup his balls. 

the moan he pulls from him is ragged, throatier than usual and it’s - good, that he’s not the only one that’s so affected by this, because when he finally gets his other hand in his pants, his fingers around his cock he nearly comes, barely touched and this worked up from - light petting and how much he enjoys the obscene stretch of his own lips around seokwoo’s cock. 

at least, he can’t be the one that comes first, how much prep seokwoo has had. he quickens his pace, pulls off long enough to coat his fingers in spit and precome, quick pumps to seokwoo’s cock before his mouth is back on him and his fingers are sliding along the cleft of his ass, pressing against his hole. 

above him, seokwoo sounds, looks incredible, his fingers clutching at the skirt so hard it tears, his breath and his hips stuttering, fucking shallowly into chanhee’s mouth, and back onto his fingers. 

he pulls chanhee off roughly when he comes, silently and arching back, chanhee’s always thought he was beautiful when he came. some of it gets into chanhee’s hair, some onto the skirt. 

chanhee lifts himself on shaky feet, pushes seokwoo back onto the bed and straddles his hips easily. 

“hey can i -” seokwoo hums, a dreamy smile on his lips and lazily pushes his shirt up his chest. it only takes a couple of rough, fast pulls on his cock before he’s coming on seokwoo’s stomach, hot and hard and from his own hand - seokwoo hasn’t even touched him, and he can’t remember the last time that’s happened. 

he slumps back onto seokwoo’s thighs when he’s finished, panting and with his jeans and underwear still pushed under his ass, enough to pull his cock out. 

“so -” chanhee wants to comb his hair back, shakes it out of his eyes instead and wipes both of his hands on seokwoo’s shirt after thinking about it. seokwoo is too blissed out to make a face, still smiling up at chanhee. “so,” he says. 

“you’re - into that?” he doesn’t actually know which part he’s talking about, and he’s a little distracted by the mess on seokwoo’s stomach, the mess that is seokwoo right now. it’s nice, always, to see him ruffled and a little bit filthy, and he’s too fucked out to care. he hums, scratches his fingers over chanhee’s jeans. 

“which part? the skirt, not really but -” he stops, rubs at the come drying on his stomach and that’s how chanhee knows he’s nervous again, choosing at new thoughts and words, but not so much that it covers his small smile. 

“you - the way you were looking at me -” he clears his throat, bounces chanhee up and down on his thighs before continuing, into his shoulder - “i’m into - that - i guess.” 

chanhee thinks he gets it. he can imagine, when they’ve never done anything like this before, rarely ever kiss on the lips in public but this time he couldn’t wait - what he looked like, looking at seokwoo. he slides off of him to lie down beside him, pillowed on his arm instead. 

“it’s like that all the time, you know,” maybe not - whatever happened tonight, exactly, but he does walk around wanting to fuck his boyfriend senseless, that’s just - normal. 

seokwoo laughs, rolls onto his side to look down at chanhee, and brushes his fingers through his hair for him. 

“please don’t do that all the time. i’d die,” and now, it’s chanhee’s turn to laugh, still chuckling when he says, “but sometimes?” 

seokwoo swallows, rubs a hand over his filthy shirt. nods. 

“yeah, sometimes.” 

they stay like that for a few more minutes, seokwoo’s fingers combing through chanhee’s hair, wandering over his chest and hips while they talk. when the soft, hazy feeling of sex runs off them both, seokwoo strips off his t-shirt, the ruined skirt, and chanhee lets his jeans and underwear puddle on the floor before they fall back into bed. 

they clean off with a pack of moist towelettes chanhee probably bought for the train, which is ridiculous on chanhee and even more absurd on seokwoo’s massive frame, and they run out towelettes before either of them feels anywhere near clean. 

they both agree this is infinitely preferable to walking stark naked to the bathroom across the hall - and chanhee would have to, in solidarity with seokwoo, whose clothes are in his backpack, in the hall - and fall asleep pretty much the second seokwoo wraps an arm around chanhee, pulls him to his chest with the blanket pulled up to their hips. 

chanhee wakes up alone, with the curtains drawn. he rolls out of bed thirty minutes later, gropes for a pair of shorts in two wrong drawers and then the right one, because he’s been spending all of his time at seokwoo’s place - 

seokwoo, who left him in the middle of the night after amazing sex, and is an asshole. he’s going to have to get himself off for the second time in a row, and why does he even have a boyfriend if - 

“good morning,” seokwoo smiles, sort of - it’s probably a smile, and chanhee just can’t tell,because he’s upside down - and pushes himself off the armrest. pillows his head on his arms, crossed on the cushions instead, and says, “i made pancakes.” 

he made pancakes. chanhee shuffles into the kitchen, which smells like pancakes, and picks one off the plate. it’s still warm. he folds it in half, shoves the whole thing into his mouth, and chews. 

“it’s good,” he says, kind of, through all the pancake. seokwoo is still smiling, because he’s a morning person, or something. chanhee grabs the plate and brings it into the living room, sitting cross legged on the couch beside seokwoo, with the pancakes in his lap. 

“inseong is going to be sad he missed pancakes,” chanhee would be, too, because they might be the sole reason seokwoo isn’t getting dumped this morning - he stayed, but not in bed, with chanhee - they’re that good. seokwoo laughs, steals a pancake off his plate.

“it’s noon, chanhee. they left.”

“oh. do you know if they - ” 

“no, they didn’t say anything,” they would have, too. seokwoo and chanhee would never live it down. 

“cool.”

chanhee and seokwoo both chew on their pancakes. chanhee sets the plate onto the coffee table, uncrosses his legs. 

“blow me?” seokwoo laughs, leans forward to rest his hands on either side of chanhee’s hips. 

  
“yeah, sure.” 

**Author's Note:**

> fixed ish for a gross amount fo. typos i thinjk theres only like . a few?? now


End file.
